


These Games We Play (I'm Not Their Pawn)

by trinketries



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinketries/pseuds/trinketries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(This is the thing about Hoya: about 90% of the time, he can read people like books. The way someone walks, their facial expressions, the light in their eyes; he knows who they are before they even speak.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Games We Play (I'm Not Their Pawn)

(This is the thing about Hoya: about 90% of the time, he can read people like books. The way someone walks, their facial expressions, the light in their eyes; he knows who they are before they even speak.)

"I'm not a great fighter," Dongwoo says in the middle of training. He fumbles as he tries to nock another arrow--the previous one ended up about five feet to the right of the target and nearly hit the girl tribute from Eight--but his fingers are clumsy and it takes a few moments before he succeeds.

"Bullshit," Hoya says. He casually runs his thumb along the side of his knife before returning his attention to the tribute in front of him. "You've been training for this since before you could walk."

Dongwoo laughs; it's a humorless, short, barking sound. "That's probably about right."

This time Dongwoo's arrow arches too high and hits the far wall before clattering to the ground. He scratches the back of his head and offers Hoya a lopsided grin. 

"Anyway, why is it that you want to be allies with me?" Dongwoo asks as he prepares to let another arrow fly. The bow quivers as though he is holding it far too tight.

"I'll tell you that after you tell me why you're missing the target on purpose," Hoya says.

Dongwoo lowers the bow slightly as he turns to look at Hoya, who just stands there, watching. After Dongwoo glances over the room, presumably to check if anybody else is looking, he lets the arrow soar.

It's a bullseye, but Dongwoo isn't smiling anymore.

"I still say that you've got the wrong guy. I'm not someone who will help you win," says Dongwoo, his gaze as intense on Hoya as it was a moment ago on the target. 

Hoya says, "That's not what I'm looking for."

The light glints off of his knife and catches his eyes.

—

Hoya hasn't been through much training for the Games, but he has been in enough fights to know where to throw a punch to bring someone to their knees. The problem: they were all one-on-one, and right now he's surrounded by three tributes who have daggers and poles and apparently one who he can't see who has arrows but is a really fucking lousy shot.

Hoya blocks a stab from the smallest girl, twists her arm behind her, yanks her knife away and plunges it into her back. While keeping the momentum he turns and slashes behind him, catching the boy from District Eight across his abdomen. 

Suddenly one of the poles sweeps Hoya's legs out from under him and he slams hard into the ground. He rolls away as the second girl brings the pole back down where his head was and there's a sharp _CRACK_ as metal meets solid stone. 

Hoya kicks out and his foot collides with her knee; she screams as it breaks and bends the wrong way, and he seizes the opportunity to stab upward into her stomach when she falls.

When he starts to spin to face the boy again, Eight is already one step ahead; he grabs Hoya's arms like a vice and slams him against a wall. The other tribute is standing so close that Hoya can't even bring a knee up but before he can think of anything to do Eight starts coughing and blood drips from his mouth. Hoya uses the opportunity to shove him away as hard as he can. The boy stumbles backwards a few steps and falls, causing an arrow to shove the rest of the way through his chest.

At first Hoya thinks that the hidden tribute in the area accidentally fired at their ally, but when he looks toward the door he sees that she's already collapsed in a heap with an arrow sticking out of her forehead.

The fourth cannon fires and Dongwoo steps into the room with his own bow slung over his shoulders. 

"Hey," he says, all casual. "Found you."

Adrenaline is still rushing through Hoya's body and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, so he remains silent. He watches as Dongwoo crouches over the girl from District Five and pries the bow from her hands. The red sheen of her blood on it is beautiful against the pale lights hanging above.

"So," Hoya finally pants, "you're kind of competent."

Dongwoo narrows his eyes in what is probably supposed to look intimidating but comes off as caution. He says, "You're half-decent yourself." 

The corners of Hoya's lips quirk up, a little.

—

Dongwoo asks, "Do you think it's smart to trust me?"

Hoya glances around the stone wall to check if any other tributes are in the room. There aren't; he motions for Dongwoo to follow. "When did I say that I trust you?"

Dongwoo laughs so genuinely that even Hoya smirks. "Good point. Well then, who's going to stop me from killing you the second you're vulnerable?"

"Nobody but you," Hoya answers, steady. There is something confident about the set of his shoulders. "That's my point."

—

"So," Dongwoo asks and pulls his jacket tighter, "what's your plan? Win?"

"No," Hoya says. "Survive."

In the distance, another cannon fires; the sound echoes down the hall, into their hideout and lingers in the air like the stench of decay.

"Is there that much of a difference?" Dongwoo quirks an eyebrow. He looks sincerely curious.

(Hoya remembers a night years ago: a crackling campfire, crickets chirping from every direction, and his little brother whose face was glowing with embers and childhood.)

Hoya looks up at the ceiling because he's not sure where the cameras are, but he hopes that they're trained on him. With all of the conviction he can gather after two sleepless nights, he says, "I'm not playing any games."

—

Hoya says, "I want the boy from Ten."

"Am I not enough for you?" Dongwoo chuckles and takes a sip of the last of their water. Then: "Why Ten?"

"People listen to him," Hoya says, matter-of-fact. The stone wall against his back stings like ice, but at least it is keeping him alert.

When Dongwoo laughs and says _okay_ it sounds a little bit like _are you crazy_. The moment quickly fades when Hoya doesn't respond, just watches and calculates and _thinks_.

Dongwoo shifts. "What are you planning?"

Hoya takes a deep breath, lets it go and watches as the steam winds up and up and up until it fades away. He says, "I'm going to make them burn."

There is a long moment when Dongwoo stares; Hoya thinks he can tell when realization flashes on Dongwoo's face once he pieces everything together and mouths _The Capitol?_

"It won't work." Dongwoo's voice sounds so much different than usual. It's desperate, maybe, heavy with the concern of someone who has everything to lose. "They'll never let you go through with it."

"This is _my_ choice," Hoya snaps. "This isn't something for them to decide."

Dongwoo leans in close, but the space between them is still cold. "They will destroy everything you care about."

Hoya thinks about freedom and campfires and his brother's face full of fear when he was called at the reaping three years ago, when the avalanche crashed toward him during his Games. "Then there is nothing for them to destroy."

There is a pause before Dongwoo's eyes widen. "Oh. You."

Hoya has never brought this up before; people just know because it hangs over his head like a sign. Now he's alright though and he lives with it so everything is fine, but then Dongwoo adds, "He looked just like you," and hearing it actually said out loud is new, and suddenly Hoya is not okay.

"Yeah." Hoya's throat feels like it's shrinking; he swallows even though his mouth is cotton-dry. "I couldn't... I couldn't _do_ anything."

It had been so unexpected. His brother was swept up during the reaping so quickly that Hoya didn't even know what had happened until he was pulled into a room and saying goodbye.

"Is that what you want?" Dongwoo asks. "Revenge?"

"Nobody should have to go through this." _Losing someone, fighting in these games; we all deserve our freedom,_ Hoya thinks. "Someone has to end it."

"Do you think you can make that much of a difference though?" One of Dongwoo's hands settles, warm and solid, on Hoya's shoulder. (It feels like a lifeline--the only thing he has left to hold onto.)

"It only takes a spark to cause a wildfire," Hoya states. "But it has to start somewhere."

Later, as the sun begins to sink into the horizon, Hoya says, "You can leave. You still have a chance." The implied _to live_ hangs heavy in the space between them.

No cannons go off even though a chorus of screams erupts on the other side of the arena. Judging by the shrillness and the desperation, Hoya almost wishes that they would have. 

Something else stirs in his chest, though, when Dongwoo replies, "Twenty-three of us don't. And next time, twenty-three more."

"You will lose everyone," Hoya warns.

There is something in Dongwoo's eyes, something flickering below the surface like that first day they met during training. "This isn't just about me anymore."

Dongwoo's hand is still firm on Hoya's shoulder; his fingers splay. Hoya closes his eyes and _feels_.

"So," Dongwoo says, soft but not tentative. "Ten."

(That night, Hoya dreams of stars and blood and eyes aglow with flames.)

—

The boy's name is Sunggyu, and he is not alone.

(Somewhere in the building, Dongwoo is hidden with an arrow nocked and ready. But if Hoya can convince Sunggyu, he believes the others will follow; there is no need to fight.)

"What is it that you want from us?" Sunggyu asks. He is too busy fixing the splint on Woohyun's broken leg to look up. 

"An alliance," Hoya says. "We have the same enemy."

"Are you your own enemy?" Sungyeol asks, then chuckles. Myungsoo nudges him with the arm that's not in a sling.

"Let me rephrase." Sunggyu looks up; there are dark circles under his eyes. When he speaks he sounds so, so tired. "What is it that you _want?_ "

Hoya says, "Freedom."

"From the games?" Woohyun asks, then he hisses as Sunggyu ties the splint off tight. "Sorry, but it's a little late for that."

"From everything. We don't deserve this. Nobody does. This is bigger than us... it's more than just the Games." Hoya can feel something inside him igniting. "We have no control over our own lives. What gives anybody else the right to decide who we are or what becomes of us? We deserve our freedom, and we can have it. The Capitol will never control us or the Districts completely, no matter how much they want to. We have to show them their place."

Everything falls silent. No wind. No birds. Not even the pipes are dripping. Sunggyu stares straight into Hoya and opens his mouth to speak, but Woohyun beats him.

"How do we know you're not just putting on an act?" he asks.

Hoya answers, "You don't."

"Even if he is, he just made himself a major target," Sungyeol says and bares his teeth in a sort of grin. He stares off to their left where Hoya suspects a camera is hovering. "How treasonous. I like it."

Myungsoo mumbles, "You would."

"But what can we do?" Sunggyu asks as he rises from the ground.

"Exactly what you're doing now," Hoya says. Even though Sunggyu is lax as though this is a normal conversation, Hoya stays aware of the knife hidden in his jacket; they are still in the Arena, after all. "Just because we're here, it doesn't mean we have to fight. We can play our own games."

Thunder crashes outside like a warning shot.

"So tell me," Woohyun remarks, "are you trying to be a martyr, or does it just come natural?"

"Who cares? This is going to happen either way," Sungyeol says, eyes eager and shining. "It's already happening."

Sunggyu shifts between his feet but doesn't break his gaze with Hoya. "This alliance... how long will it last?"

"Until the end," Hoya says. "Whatever that may be."

Myungsoo _hmms_ thoughtfully, but nobody makes any motion to disagree so Hoya adds, "There's no going back after this," just in case, because this is their decision to make.

Sungyeol scoffs and rolls his eyes. "There hasn't been any going back since the reaping."

—

"I can't fight," Sunggyu says, then frowns. Behind him, Sungyeol swings his steel baton to its full length; it locks into place with a determined _CLICK_.

Hoya tucks an extra knife into each of his boots. Part of him wishes he could say _you won't have to,_ but there are still decades of tradition he has to shatter. He says, "We'll be there too."

—

Convincing Sungjong to join them is easier than expected.

When they find him, he is cowered in a corner on top of pipes ten feet off the ground. He starts to shift when Hoya says _we can change this,_ but it is Sunggyu's smile--as bright and welcome as the sun--that coaxes Sungjong back to earth.

"So we're really all together?" Sungjong asks cautiously. 

"Yes," Sunggyu says. "We always have been."

—

"My best friend was in the Games last year," Sungjong says and pulls at where the hem of his shirt used to be. "She always used to complain that I had to do everything she did. I wanted to be like her, you know? But when she said 'everything,' I don't think she imagined this."

His smile is sweet, sort of, but weary; it's the kind of expression someone his age should not have to wear. 

Woohyun says, "I volunteered this year." He rips off a piece of his bread--a gift he received at the beginning of the game--and shoves it into his mouth. "I thought it might be fun."

Sungyeol leans closer to the fire and smirks. "This _is_ fun."

Woohyun mirrors his expression. "It's not what I expected, but yeah, it is," he says.

"You're so weird," Myungsoo mutters. Sungyeol, who is sitting next to him, kicks his foot. 

"We're weird?" he asks. "You're the one who hasn't spoken more than three words at a time. Weirdo."

"Play nice," Sunggyu scolds. He's smiling though, which kind of ruins that.

Myungsoo nudges back. "Really? I guess."

"Yeah. It's getting kind of annoying," Sungyeol says.

Hoya thinks he sees the corners of Myungsoo's mouth twitch up a little. "You're getting annoying."

"Now you're doing it on purpose!" Sungyeol practically squawks, and then Dongwoo bursts out laughing; it's as light as the clouds outside and Hoya loses himself in the sound while everyone else joins in.

Except a cannon goes off in the distance, and all seven of them snap back to reality. 

Their fire starts to flicker. Sunggyu throws in some more wood and asks, "So what next?" 

"The girl from Two," Hoya says. He likes the smolder in her eyes. "She'll join us."

—

(This is the thing about Hoya: about 10% of the time, he horribly misjudges people.)

—

His breath is coming in gasps (loud, short, frantic) and he's trying to run, but it's almost impossible to do with a gash the size of an axe in his left side.

Dongwoo is about two rooms ahead yelling at Hoya to _go go go_ and Hoya wants to scream right back _what the fuck do you think I'm doing_ but he can't breathe; everything is throbbing and the pain is screaming through his body and he collapses, just goes face-down in a mess of limbs and lands hard.

He's vaguely aware of the arrow that zips over his head, the wail when it lands square between where the muttation's eyes should be, and the sound of its body hitting the ground.

Before he has time to react, Dongwoo is kneeling next to him and stripping Hoya's jacket off. He wraps it around Hoya's waist and ties it tight over his wound. 

"You could kill me," Hoya grunts. It sounds off-handed, like he could be saying _it's awfully cold today._ "Like you said before. I can't defend myself."

Dongwoo says, "Yeah."

"What's stopping you?" Hoya asks.

"Nobody but me." Dongwoo grins, kind of. "We're getting up on the count of three."

All Hoya can think about is how much he hurts (and how Dongwoo's arms around his back and under his knees are as warm as the blood running down his side) so he takes a deep breath and holds it. 

It doesn't help. Maybe it's from the blood loss or the pain that shoots through his core, but either way he passes out on 'three.'

—

When Hoya wakes up the first thing he hears is Dongwoo saying, "The girl tribute from Four was hiding in some rubble. I didn't see her until after."

Woohyun says, "Sunggyu?" but his voice sounds as broken as his leg.

"It was quick," Dongwoo states.

(It had been: A spear through the chest, and Sunggyu didn't even have time to scream before the _boom_ of his cannon alerted the arena that there is one less person playing this game. 

Everything flashes through Hoya's mind: Four killing Sunggyu. Dongwoo killing Four. Hoya and Two wrestling with each other until she got him with her axe and he sliced her throat wide open. 

The muttations--monstrous and dark as shadows--flew in like they were drawn by the spray of blood.)

"We were ambushed," Hoya says. He starts to roll himself over but stops and grimaces as the pain in his side flares up. "Muttations split us. Sungyeol disappeared."

It only made sense, Hoya thought. All of them are so much weaker divided.

Sungjong returns carrying a helmet filled with rain water from the other side of the room. He asks, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Nobody really gives him an answer--they may be murderers, but they are not liars--except perhaps for Myungsoo who says, "He knows how to fight," which might've been reassuring if his words hadn't hitched.

"They're after us now anyway," Hoya says. He presses a hand into his side hard and pushes himself to sit up. In the process he slips a little, but Dongwoo plants an arm behind Hoya to keep him upright. "You're not safe with me here."

Woohyun laughs but it doesn't quite hit the right notes. "We were safe before?"

—

" _Shit,_ " Hoya hisses.

"Can you stand?" Sungjong asks, like he cares.

Hoya grits his teeth against the pain shooting out from his wound; the fall jostled him enough to reopen the part that had healed. He says, "Keep going. I'm coming."

After a moment of hesitation Sungjong, Myungsoo and Woohyun start walking down the corridor again, but Hoya makes no move to follow. 

Dongwoo remains at his side.

"If I stay here," Hoya says, "you'll have more time to get away."

"We both know that's not because you think you can drive anything off," Dongwoo says. He takes a step closer and extends a hand. "Don't tell me you're backing out now."

Hoya scowls, grabs on _tight_ and snaps, "Shut the fuck up."

It feels like he's being ripped apart at the seams as Dongwoo pulls him back to his feet, but at the end of it all Hoya's standing again.

—

Every time they settle somewhere, they either set off a trap or more muttations appear; the five of them are almost constantly on the run, and the exertion is taking its toll on everyone.

They're out of clean bandages and down to the last remains of Woohyun's bread and Hoya is really starting to lag. Woohyun has stopped talking, Myungsoo vanishes every now and then, and Hoya knows they can't go on like this much longer.

(Hardly a day has passed since Sunggyu.)

But Sungjong, bless him, still offers part of his meal for Hoya to eat. 

Hoya tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a wheeze. He thinks _don't waste food like that_ but Sungjong's eyes are so, so bright in the moonlight that Hoya can almost hear crickets. Instead, he says, "Save it for later."

—

The Arena had always been cold, but tonight it is frigid; it feels as though someone turned the temperature as far as they could below freezing in an attempt to snuff out all the heat.

When Hoya's eyes flicker open, it takes a few moments for him to focus. Everything looks a bit hazy but he can see his allies huddled together in their sleep. One of them is seated next to him, though, alert and scanning the area. 

Dongwoo must notice Hoya stirring because he looks down and whispers, "Hey."

"Hey," Hoya breathes. He stretches a hand out between them. Dongwoo meets him halfway and squeezes; Hoya's blood helps stick them together. 

"You should get some rest," Dongwoo says.

Hoya wants to. He is beyond exhausted. But there's something he has to do first. "I can't, yet."

"Hoya," Dongwoo says, strained, sad maybe. This is the first time anyone has used Hoya's name in almost two weeks and he thinks that he has never heard anything so amazing.

He wishes that he could repay the favor so he says, "Dongwoo. Win."

Down the hallway, there is a room that has a fluorescent light on. It shines bright enough for Hoya to see Dongwoo smirk. "But we're not playing a game."

Hoya can't bring himself to reply to that because the corners of his eyes start to sting.

Years ago, when his plan started forming, Hoya hadn't considered anyone besides himself. Dongwoo. Sunggyu. Any of them. He never imagined how much this would hurt (he never expected to _care_ ); it hits stronger and in a much deeper place than any physical wound, like watching reruns of his brother's Games. Hoya swallows. "I'm sorry."

Dongwoo shakes his head. "Don't be. You didn't force me into anything. I decided to help on my own."

Outside, snow starts to fall. It looks as white as truth against the gray prison walls.

"Do you think this will matter to anyone?" Hoya asks, then takes a shuddering breath. 

Dongwoo tightens his grip, keeps Hoya grounded just a little longer. "At least to six of us it did. I'm sure it does to The Capitol. There's probably someone else out there in the Districts too. We can't be the only ones. I think someone just needed to show them first. And that's how it all starts, right?"

Hoya smiles. Really, honestly, for the first time in years. "Yeah."

Half an inch of snowfall later, when the Arena becomes alarmingly cold, Hoya manages to say, "I kind of wish... things had changed sooner. We could've been friends."

"Someday we will be," Dongwoo says; he sounds shaky, about to crack, but he has not lied to Hoya yet. 

He decides to go ahead and trust this, too. Hoya says, "Looking forward to it."

Dongwoo's thumb feels burning hot against the back of Hoya's hand, but even that starts to fade as the world grows darker.

"You can sleep now. I've got things covered," says Dongwoo, voice as frayed as the wires dangling above.

Hoya focuses on the warmth in his palm and watches the faint glow of embers where their fire used to be. He breathes out, closes his eyes...

A cannon fires, and Hoya is free.


End file.
